


J'accuse

by WishIwasMeg



Category: Benton Fraser/ Margaret Thatcher, due South
Genre: Drama/ romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24488692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WishIwasMeg/pseuds/WishIwasMeg
Summary: Meg goes undercover when Fraser is accused of a major crime.
Relationships: Ben/Meg
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

The desk sergeant at the 27th precinct of the Chicago Police Department phoned through to Detective First Grade Raymond Vecchio of the Violent Crimes Division. “I have a young woman here who wants to report a crime. She’s asking to speak to you personally.”  
“OK, send her up,” said Vecchio with a sigh. He hoped this wouldn’t take long as it was nearly lunchtime. A few minutes later a young woman appeared. She looked about 18 or 19 years old, and was dressed in shabby jeans and a grubby t-shirt. Her hair was lank and unkempt and she wore no make-up. She didn’t smell too fresh either.  
“What can I do for you, Miss..…?”  
“Kelly. Angela Kelly. I want to report a rape.”  
“Were you the victim?” asked the detective, “because we have specially trained female officers…..”  
“I just want him arrested,” she interrupted.  
“Do you have the name of the perpetrator, Miss Kelly?”  
“Yes. Constable Benton Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.”


	2. Chapter 2

At the Canadian consulate Inspector Margaret Thatcher looked up irritably from her computer screen where she was trying to juggle budget figures as the telephone on her desk rang.  
“Excuse me, sir,” said Constable Renfield Turnbull who was on reception duties that day, “but Lieutenant Welsh of the Chicago Police Department is here and would like to speak with you as a matter of urgency.”  
Lieutenant Welsh here? How odd! thought Meg. “Show him into my office, please, Constable.”  
As the door opened and the burly American policeman entered her office, Meg rose to greet him and extended her hand. “We don’t often see you at the consulate, Lieutenant,” she said with a welcoming smile. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”  
Welsh shook her hand and sat down on the chair she indicated on the other side of her desk. “It’s about Constable Fraser,” he stated.  
“Ah, I somehow thought it might be,” she said with an exasperated sigh. “What’s he done now? I hope it’s not going to cost the Canadian government too much money.”  
“Inspector,” Welsh hesitated, unsure how to break the news to her. “I’m afraid Constable Fraser stands accused of a very serious crime. I came to inform you as his commanding officer and to discuss how we are going to proceed.”  
Meg Thatcher felt a cold fear grip her heart. “I think you had better explain, Lieutenant.”  
Welsh cleared his throat before speaking. “A young woman has come forward to accuse Constable Fraser of raping her and fathering the unborn child she is carrying.”  
“That’s absurd!” exclaimed Meg. “Fraser would never do such a thing in a million years!”  
“Nevertheless, the young woman’s testimony strongly suggests he is guilty. Since he is a Canadian citizen, I came to discuss the diplomatic implications of the arrest. Does he have diplomatic immunity, for example?”  
“No, he does not,” said Meg, “but if he opposed arrest, he could claim asylum in the consulate and you would have to apply for an extradition order from the Canadian government. But this whole thing is ridiculous, lieutenant. There must be some kind of misunderstanding.” She reached for the telephone on her desk. “Turnbull, will you please go and relieve Constable Fraser from sentry duty and tell him I want to see him in my office immediately.”  
A few minutes later Constable Benton Fraser knocked on the door and strode in, giving Lieutenant Welsh a friendly nod before coming to attention in front of the Inspector’s desk. “You wanted to see me, sir?”  
“Yes, Fraser. At ease! Lieutenant Welsh, perhaps you would care to explain to the constable why you are here.”  
Welsh stood up and turned to face the Mountie. “Constable, do you know a young woman called Angela Kelly?”  
Fraser looked blank for a minute, then said. “Ah yes, I remember her. A few weeks ago I was returning from a late-night walk with Diefenbaker and I found her slumped on the consulate steps. I brought her inside and as she appeared to be destitute, I gave her shelter for the night.”  
Meg opened her mouth to say something, but Welsh said, “What exactly do you mean by shelter, Constable?”  
“Well, I let her sleep on my bed.”  
“And where did you sleep?”  
“The young lady was very distressed so I stayed at her side on the floor.”  
“All night?”  
“Yes, she felt better in the morning and left about seven o’clock before any of the other staff arrived.”  
“I see,” said Welsh. “And would it surprise you to know that she is now claiming that you raped her that night and that you are the father of the child she is carrying?”  
All the colour drained from Fraser’s face and Meg thought he was going to collapse. “That’s absurd! Why would she lie like that? I never laid a finger on her.”  
Meg looked at the American detective. “Please, Lieutenant, would you mind waiting outside while I have a private word with Constable Fraser? You can wait in the sitting room down the hall.” 

Once he was gone, she turned to Fraser. “Right,” she said. “I want an explanation.”  
Fraser looked as if he was going to be sick.  
“SO?” asked Meg looking straight at him.  
“As I already explained to the leftenant, I found the young woman slumped on the steps outside. It was raining quite hard and she seemed distressed so I brought her inside and made her a cup of tea. She told me her name was Angela Kelly and she had just been evicted from the homeless shelter where she usually spent the night.”  
“Did you ask her why?”  
“No, sir. The reason seemed irrelevant. All I could see was that she needed somewhere to spend the night.”  
“So you offered her your bed?”  
“Well, sir, I didn’t think you would approve of her sleeping in one of the bedrooms upstairs.”  
“Hm, I see. So where did you sleep.?”  
“The young woman was very disturbed. She had been drinking. She begged me not to leave her, so I sat by her bed till she fell asleep and then I slept on a bedroll on the floor beside the bed.”  
“You didn’t share the bed?”  
“Certainly not!” The colour returned to his cheeks at that.  
“And did either of you remove any clothing?”  
“Apart from outdoor coats and shoes, no sir.”  
“So what happened the next morning?”  
“Miss Kelly awoke about six thirty. I made her some breakfast and she left. That was the last I saw of her.”  
“And you didn’t think to inform me of this?”  
“Well, sir, I suspected that you would not approve of me inviting waifs and strays, as you have described them, on to consulate property, and I was off-duty so I reckoned it was not consulate business.”  
She looked him straight in the eye. “Fraser, do you give me your word that you did not assault this girl?”  
He returned her look. “I give you my word as an RCMP officer that I did not.”  
“Very well, Constable, I believe you. Now what are we going to do about this?”  
“Sir?”  
“Lieutenant Welsh has come to arrest you, but as I explained to him, you have the right to refuse to go with him and to stay in the consulate. The American authorities would have to apply to extradite you.”  
“But why would I refuse to go with the leftenant?” he asked somewhat incredulously. “I have done nothing wrong so I have nothing to fear.”  
“Fraser, as your commanding officer I strongly advise you to remain on Canadian soil until I can get a legal advisor down from Ottawa.”  
“But that would imply that I had something to hide. I am quite willing to go with the leftenant right now.”  
“Very well, she sighed. “She pressed her phone and instructed her secretary to ask Welsh to return to her office. “Lieutenant, against my advice Constable Fraser has agreed to go with you to answer the charges against him. I shall, of course, get legal representation for him as soon as it can be arranged with our superiors in Ottawa.”  
“Thank you, Inspector,” said Welsh and proceeded to read Fraser his rights. As they were leaving her office, Meg called out, “Don’t worry, Fraser. I believe in you. We’ll sort this.”  
He turned and smiled at her then left with the American detective.


	3. Chapter 3

“What possible evidence do they have? Is it just her word against his?”  
“Well,” RCMP defence counsel George Morrison looked across the desk at Meg. “In cases like this, the tendency nowadays is for the alleged rape victim to be believed. She tells a very convincing story. She claims that after she got into Fraser’s bed, he climbed in after her and despite her protests, he forced her to have sex with him. She was rather the worse for drink and couldn’t fight him off.”  
“But why did she wait over a month to report it?” asked Meg.  
“She claims she was too ashamed to go to the police at the time, but once she found she was pregnant, she felt she had to call him to account. Of course, there is now no physical evidence of the attack to back up her claim apart from the child.”  
“And that’s what is so ridiculous!” scoffed Meg. “That child could be anyone’s. And once it’s born, the DNA evidence will show that Constable Fraser is not the father. Is she too stupid to realise that?”  
“I wouldn’t go around denigrating the alleged victim, Inspector,” said Morrison. “And there’s more. She claims Fraser has a birth mark on his groin. She could only know that if she had seen it.”  
“And does he?”  
“Yes.”

******  
“What can we do to help him, Detective?” Meg Thatcher looked desperately at Ray Vecchio sitting opposite her in the small diner where they had agreed to meet.  
“Well, I guess bail is going to be set pretty high,” he said. “Would the Canadian government put up the money?”  
“Not in a case like this,” she replied. “But I have some personal savings and an insurance policy I could cash in. I’ll raise the necessary money.”  
“Why would you do that?” asked Ray. “He irritates the hell out of you. I thought you would be glad to get him out of your hair for a bit.”  
“Is that what you think?” she asked quietly. “I happen to think that Benton Fraser is one of the finest officers in the whole of the RCMP and I believe he is innocent. I will move heaven and earth to help him.”  
Ray looked at her curiously as light dawned. “My God, you really care about him, don’t you?”  
Meg blushed. “My concern is of a purely professional nature,” she began, but Ray interrupted her.  
“Bullshit! Don’t hide it, Inspector. He needs to know you care. He loves you, did you know that?”  
“Does he?” She smiled to herself.  
“You’d better believe it!” 

*****  
Fraser was released on bail into the custody of the Canadian consulate with the proviso that he must not leave the building. When he inquired who had posted the not inconsiderable bail money, no-one would tell him. On the day of his release, he, Meg and Ray gathered in Meg’s office to discuss their strategy.  
“The key to this whole thing lies with the Kelly girl,” said Ray. “How could she possibly know about the birth mark?”  
“What do we know about her?” asked Meg.  
“She was brought up in care till she was 16, then she started living on the streets, doing drugs. The night Benny found her, she had been ordered to leave the homeless shelter because she had been drinking.”  
“Was she drunk when you found her, Fraser?” asked Meg.  
“Well she did reek of alcohol and she had been sick, but I wouldn’t have said she was drunk.”  
“Where is she now?”  
“She is living in a cheap hotel the other side of town. What I don’t get is what she hopes to gain from this. It will be obvious when the kid is born that it isn’t yours, Benny.”  
“By that time my reputation will have been destroyed. No smoke without fire and all that.”  
“Yes but why? What does your reputation matter to her? I think we should get a private investigator in to see what we can find out about her. There’s more to this than meets the eye,” declared Ray.  
“I’ll do it,” said Meg. They both looked at her in astonishment. “She doesn’t know me. I’ll go undercover, try to get to know her and find out what her game is.”  
“You’ll do no such thing,” said Ray.  
“Try and stop me, Detective. The Chicago Police Department has no jurisdiction over my actions. The reputation of one of my officers has been impugned. I have a duty to clear his name.”  
“But, sir…” protested Ben, “it could be dangerous. I can’t let you…”  
“Nonsense, Constable,” she interrupted. “You forget I am a trained field officer. I’m doing it.”  
She fixed them both with a withering glance and neither man dared to argue.


	4. Chapter 4

The desk clerk at the seedy Black Lotus Hotel looked up as a striking blonde came through the front door.  
“Can I help you, ma’am?” he asked giving her a lascivious leer.  
“Yes. I reserved a room. Camilla Johnson.”  
“Ah, yes, Miss Johnson. Welcome to the Black Lotus Hotel. Your room is number 24. May I help you with your bag?”  
“No, thank you,” she replied. “I can manage. Are there many other guests staying?”  
“No, ma’am only three others tonight.”  
I’m not surprised, thought Meg Thatcher as she made her way along the grubby, damp-smelling corridor to room 24. She had completely transformed herself, hiding her chestnut hair under a platinum blonde wig, plastering on tons of make-up, exchanging her normally demure clothes for a figure-hugging skirt and sweater, and swapping her refined Canadian vowels for a New York drawl. She found her room and sighed at the shabby decor and cheap furniture. Her first task was to find Angela Kelly and get to know her. As she lay on the musty bedclothes, her mind drifted back to her parting with Fraser. He had been aghast at what she was proposing to do. “Sir, there’s something that doesn’t add up in all this. It could be dangerous. You know I can’t leave the consulate. I can’t let you do this on your own. Not on my account.” “Why not?” “Because your life is too precious to risk.” She had looked into his blue eyes. “Fraser…Ben…that’s for me to decide.” At that he had taken her hand in his and raised it to his lips. No words were spoken, but in that instant their eyes met and an understanding was forged. They both KNEW, and hope blossomed in their hearts. Dreaming of possibilities, Meg drifted off to sleep.

The next morning she rose, showered in the mould-covered bathroom and went in search of breakfast. She had spotted a not too insalubrious diner opposite the hotel and decided that it would not only provide something to eat, but also give her the opportunity to observe the comings and goings in the hotel. She bought a newspaper, then went and took a seat in the diner and ordered coffee and scrambled eggs on toast. About half an hour later, two men left the hotel, obviously on their way to work somewhere. Ten minutes passed, then she saw a young girl emerge and cross the road to the diner. She entered, sat down at a table and ordered coffee and a danish pastry. Meg had her story ready. Getting to her feet, she went over to where the girl was sitting.  
“Hi!” she said with a broad smile. “I saw you coming out of the Black Lotus. I’m staying there too. Mind if I join you?”  
“Suit yourself,” came the sullen reply.  
“I’m Camilla, by the way,” said Meg ignoring the rudeness. “Have you been staying at the Black Lotus long?”  
“A few weeks. I’m hoping to ship out soon.”  
“Really? Lucky you! It’s not the Ritz, is it? I didn’t get your name, by the way.”  
“Angela.”  
“Pleased to meet you, Angela,” she said. “Are you off to work, now?”  
“Nah, I don’t work,” said the girl.  
“So how do you live?” began Meg, then she said, “Sorry I didn’t mean to be nosy. None of my business.”  
“That’s ok. Actually, I’m going to be coming in to some money soon. Then I can get out of this dump.”  
“A legacy? Somebody die and leave you a fortune?”  
“No….it doesn’t matter. What brings you to these parts?”  
“Actually, I’m a singer,” said Meg not untruthfully for she had a fine voice. “A friend of mine is trying to get me some work in some of the clubs. Fingers crossed, eh?”  
“Yeah, look I gotta go. I’ve a doctor’s appointment.”  
“You’re not ill are you?” asked Meg.  
“Nah. Pregnant. See you around.”  
As the young woman left, Meg wondered where she got the money for an antenatal appointment.

Meg decided to explore the neighbourhood, but after an hour or so she had had enough and buying a sandwich and coffee, she went back to her hotel room, phoned Fraser on her cell phone to discuss some consular business and spent the rest of the day reading. In the evening she ventured out again in search of some food and in the hope of coming across Angela, but she was out of luck. The following morning she went back to the diner for breakfast and waited for the girl to put in an appearance. When Angela arrived, Meg waved her over to her table. “Morning, Angela! How are you today? How did you get on at the doctor’s yesterday?”  
“Ok,” was the monosyllabic reply.  
“So when’s the baby due?” asked Meg  
“September.”  
Meg did a quick calculation. That fitted.  
“And what about the father? Married, is he? Let you down?”  
“I don’t want to talk about it.”  
“Sorry,” said Meg, backing off. “Didn’t mean to pry.”

For the next few days Meg met the girl for breakfast, gradually getting her to relax and open up a bit more, though she still refused to discuss her personal life. On the fourth day Angela appeared with a letter in her hand.  
“That looks important,” observed Meg as she spotted the official seal on the envelope.  
Angela slit the letter open with a table knife and read the contents.  
“Not bad news, I hope,” said Meg.  
“No. I’ve been called as a witness in a trial. This is the official notification of the hearing.”  
“Gee, that’s exciting!” said Meg “What kind of trial?”  
“A rape trial. I was raped by this guy.”  
Meg’s antenna was instantly raised. “Oh that’s awful, honey,” she said. “Want to talk about it?”  
At that moment there was a ringing noise from Angela’s handbag and she opened it to extract a cell phone. I wonder how she can afford one of those, thought Meg as she listened in to the conversation.  
“Yes. It came this morning. 10am on the 12th. Yes, I know. We have to talk. Where do you want to meet? No, I don’t know it. Give me a second to write down the address.” Meg obligingly handed her a pen and squinted as Angela wrote down a time and place on a paper napkin.  
“Thanks,” she said to Meg, giving her back the pen. “I have to go now. See you later."


	5. Chapter 5

Café Royal, Dermott St, 10.30. Meg made a mental note. Perhaps it was a wild goose chase, but she was determined to find out all she could about Angela Kelly’s life and connections. She took a taxi to the fairly upmarket neighbourhood where the meeting was to take place. Fortunately, there were lots of shops around, so she could look busy window shopping while keeping a discreet eye on the Café Royal. About 10.25 she saw Angela approach and enter the building. She hung about for ten minutes then strode into the small but smart premises. Angela was sitting at a table engrossed in conversation with a dark-haired, well-dressed woman. Wearing her biggest smile, Meg breezed over to them.  
“Angela!” she exclaimed. “Fancy seeing you here! Mind if I join you?” She sat down at the table and drew a dagger look from the other woman.  
“Hi! I’m Camilla Johnson.” She extended her hand. “Won’t you introduce me to your friend, Angela?”  
“This is Carla Mitchell,” said Angela.  
“Pleased to meet you,” said Meg.  
“Excuse me,” said Carla, but Angela and I happen to be in the middle of a private conversation.”  
“Oh don’t mind me,” said Meg. “I’ll just grab a cup of coffee then I’ll get out of your hair. I have an audition at that club across the street and I’m parched.”  
“If you’ll excuse us, I think we’ll leave,” said the dark-haired woman. Calling the waitress over, she asked for the check and as she opened her wallet to pay, Meg struggled to stifle a gasp. There in the photo compartment of the wallet was a picture of Benton Fraser. Thinking on her feet, Meg reached out and touched the photo.  
“My, he’s a handsome specimen!” she declared. “Is that your boyfriend?”  
“That’s none of your business,” snapped the other woman as she and Angela got up and left the café.  
Why would this woman have a photo of Fraser, she wondered. At last she had found something to connect both Angela and Fraser to a third party. As she stood up to leave, she noticed a glossy magazine lying on the table where Carla had been sitting. Presumably she had been reading it while waiting for Angela to arrive. Acting on her police honed instincts, Meg took a handkerchief from her bag and carefully picked up the publication. It was a long shot, but if Carla was up to no good, maybe her fingerprints were on file. Gingerly holding the magazine, she hailed a cab then headed for the 27th precinct.

At first Ray Vecchio was nonplussed as the brassy blonde approached his desk.  
“Can I help you, Miss…?” he began before being interrupted.  
“It’s me, Detective.”  
“My God! Inspector? I would never have recognised you! Do they teach disguises at Mountie school? You should have seen Fraser in drag.”  
“Enough!” she interrupted him and proceeded to fill him in on what she had discovered so far and to hand over the magazine.  
“I know it’s a long shot, but it’s all we’ve got at the moment. Her name is Carla Mitchell and judging by her clothes she’s not short of money.”  
“OK, I’ll see what I can do,” said Ray.  
“I’m going to head over to the consulate for a couple of hours to catch up on some work and see Constable Fraser before I go back to the hotel.”  
“He’ll like that,” said Ray with a smirk. “He’s missing you.”  
“Hm!” was all she said, but she did blush and a little smile lit up her pale face.

Since it was a Saturday, the Liaison department was closed to the public so Meg had to let herself in using her keys. The place was eerily quiet with no sign of Fraser, then she heard a sharp bark and Diefenbaker trotted towards her wagging his tail. He was followed by his master dressed casually in jeans and an RCMP sweat shirt. Meg noticed with concern that his handsome face looked drawn. Maybe, she reflected sadly, despite his eternal optimism that right would prevail, the enormity of what he was facing had dawned on him now that there was a date set for the hearing.  
“Sir! It’s good to see you,” he said with a smile. ”And may I say you look smashing in your disguise, though I prefer you as a brunette rather than a blonde.” His face reddened on realising that he had let something of his personal feelings slip and feared he had offended her.  
“Thank you, Constable,” she said pulling the blonde wig off. “This thing itches like hell. I’ll gladly go back to being a brunette. Now can you make me some coffee and I’ll fill you in on developments.”  
They sat at the small table in the kitchen and Meg recounted the events of the week. When she reached the part about his photo being in Carla’s wallet, he looked thoughtful for a moment then the colour left his cheeks.  
“Fraser…Ben…what is it?” she asked as her heart began to race.  
Just then her cell phone rang. “Yes, Detective? You have? Who do they belong to? Say that again. Are you sure? Yes, he’s here. I’ll tell him. Yes, I think it would be a good idea if you came over. We have to discuss where we go from here. See you shortly! Bye!” She turned to Fraser.  
“That was Ray Vecchio. They have a match for the prints on the magazine.”  
He looked at her with worry in his eyes.  
“ They belong to Victoria Metcalf. Ben, I’m so sorry.”  
He slumped in his chair with his head in his hands. “I had a suspicion when you told me about the photograph. And it would explain how she knew about..about..the birth mark.”  
Meg reached out and placed a hand over his. “Do you still care for her?”  
“No, not since..…” his voiced trailed away as he looked deep into her chocolate eyes. “But I don’t understand all this. What is she up to?”  
They sat in silence for a while, Meg still holding his hand until they heard Vecchio ring the doorbell. Ray had brought a photo of Victoria which he showed to Meg.  
“Yes, that’s Carla,” said Meg. “Her hair is shorter now but it’s still curly and she was wearing glasses, but I’m sure it’s her.” She watched Ben carefully and handed the photograph to him but he turned away, refusing to look at it.  
“So what do we do now?” Ray asked.”We’re not just looking for whoever is behind this allegation against Benny. We are looking for a murder suspect who has been on the run for several years. That makes it a whole new ball game as far as the police are concerned.”  
“Look,” said Meg. “Angela Kelly is the only lead we have. Let me carry on with what I’m doing. They have no reason to know that we’re on to them. I’ll put a bit of pressure on the girl and see if she leads us to…the… Metcalf woman.” She could not bring herself to say her name.  
“No!” said Ben emphatically. “ You have to stop now, Meg…sir. That woman is dangerous. She shot Diefenbaker. She killed a man in cold blood at point blank range. If she suspected for a moment what you mean to.… that I care…..” His voice tailed off. “She’s quite capable of killing you. I won’t let you risk it.”  
“And how are you going to stop me, Constable?” she asked softly.  
“She’s right, Benny,” said Ray. “She’s the only lead we’ve got.”  
“Well, just be careful!” he pleaded looking into her eyes.  
“I will," she promised.


	6. Chapter 6

Back at the Black Lotus, Meg took stock of the situation. Now was the time to put a bit of pressure on Miss Kelly, she reckoned. She wasn’t a bad kid; just an unfortunate one who had been dealt a pretty duff hand in life. Meg knocked on Angela’s room door and without waiting to be invited, stepped inside.  
“What do you want?” the girl asked.  
Meg took a gamble. “Angela, it’s time to quit this charade. I know that Constable Fraser didn’t attack you and so do the police. You could be in big trouble for making a false accusation.”  
“Who are you? What do you know about it?”  
“I’m a friend of Constable Fraser’s and I know he didn’t rape you. Why are you trying to ruin the life of a good, honest, honourable man with your lies?”  
“She said it wouldn’t do any harm. She was willing to give me five thousand dollars if I played along.”  
“Carla?”  
The girl nodded then burst into tears.  
“I think you had better tell me the whole story from the beginning,” said Meg.  
“I got pregnant from a one-night stand,” began Angela, “so I went to an abortion clinic. One of the nurses there said that there was this woman who would pay a lot of money to someone who was just newly pregnant if they would keep the baby. I met with her and she said if I made the accusation against the Mountie, she would give me the money and take care of me. She told me what to say, about the birth mark and so on. She even told me to ask for Detective Vecchio personally when I reported the rape.”  
“Did she tell you why she wanted you to do this? Surely she knew that when the child was born, it wouldn’t take long to prove that Fraser wasn’t the father?”  
“She said he was her ex-lover and she wanted him back. She said that it was his job and his sense of honour that were keeping him from her. She thought the trial would ruin his reputation. She thought if he lost his good name he wouldn’t be able to stand the shame and he would resign. Then she would look him up and he would go back to her.”  
“I see,” said Meg thoughtfully. It was beginning to make sense now. “Listen to me, Angela,” she said gently. “You could be in big trouble for making a false accusation against Constable Fraser, but it will help you if you co-operate with the police to catch this woman. Angela, she’s a dangerous felon. She’s wanted for murder.”  
The girl looked horrified. “What do you want me to do?” she asked.  
“Do you have any way of contacting her? Of arranging to meet her?”  
“Yeah. She gave me this cell phone. I have a contact number for her.”  
“Right, I want you to phone her and ask to meet her. Say it’s an emergency. Say you’re bleeding or something. And please don’t warn her off. She’s dangerous. The police have to take her in.”  
“OK,” said the girl as she took out her cell phone. Meg listened while Angela phoned Carla asking to meet her. “She says she’ll phone me back with a time and place. I’ll let you know.”  
“Fine!” said Meg. “Let me know where and when” and she returned to her room.

About nine o’clock that evening the telephone in Meg’s room rang. That’s odd, she thought. Anyone who knows I’m here would call my cell phone. She lifted the receiver to hear Angela’s voice. She sounded agitated.  
“Can you come to my room, Camilla? I need to see you right now. It’s urgent.”  
Wondering what the problem was, Meg hurried along the corridor to Angela’s room and knocked on the door. “It’s me! Camilla,” she called. She heard footsteps approaching as Angela opened the door and she stepped inside. Angela immediately closed the door and Meg turned to see Carla/ Victoria calmly aiming a gun at her.  
“Angela’s not the simpleton you took her for,” said Victoria calmly. “She knows what side her bread is buttered on. She called me and told me all about you and your lies.”  
“What lies?” asked Meg. “I told her you were wanted for murder. That’s a fact not a lie.”  
“Who are you?” asked Victoria. “She said you claimed to be a friend of Benton’s.”  
Meg considered whether to tell her the truth. “Yes I am,” she said. “I am Inspector Margaret Thatcher of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. I am his commanding officer.”  
“Ah the bitch he thinks he’s in love with,” snarled Victoria. Now what makes her think that, wondered Meg, with a flutter in her heart despite the circumstances. She must have been watching him, assessing and analysing his actions to come to that conclusion. Victoria raised the gun and pointed it at Meg.  
Meg thought fast. “If you’re right that he’s in love with me,” she said, “how is it going to endear you to him if you kill me?”  
“I know how to bewitch Benton Fraser,” she smiled. “With you out of the way, he’ll come back to me.”  
“And how do you expect to get away with killing me here in this hotel? The police know about you. They’ll hunt you down.”  
“Not if I make it look as if you killed this little fool in revenge for what she did to your precious Ben and then you took your own life in remorse.”  
“You’re mad!” said Meg, trying desperately to think of a way out. She looked around the room. Near where Angela stood was a small table with a lamp on it. “Angela,” she said slowly, “she’s going to kill us both. I want you to pick up that lamp on the table and throw it at her.”  
Angela looked terrified, but she did put her hand out towards the lamp. As Meg had planned, it was enough of a distraction for Victoria to take her eyes off Meg. Quick as a flash, Meg’s police training kicked in and she lunged at her, knocking the gun out of her hand. Victoria swung round, but Meg was a well-trained police officer and soon had her pinned to the ground, her knee in her back. Meantime Angela had crept forward and picked up the gun where it lay on the floor. With trembling hands she aimed it at Meg.  
Victoria writhed under Meg’s iron hold on her. “Shoot her, Angela!” she yelled. “I’ll make sure we get out of here and I’ll take care of you.”  
“Don’t be a fool, Angela!” said Meg with all the authority she could muster. “If you shoot me, your life is over. Do you want to go down for the murder of a police officer? They’ll hunt you down and throw the book at you. Now put the gun down and call the cops. They will go easy on you if you co-operate. I’ll testify on your behalf.”  
Angela stood for what seemed like an age, undecided what to do. Then she dropped the gun and began to cry.  
“That’s a good girl,” said Meg, still holding Victoria down, “Now take out your cell phone and call 911.”

When it was all over and both Victoria and Angela had been taken into custody, Ray Vecchio offered to drive Meg back to the consulate. “It’s late.” he said. “I guess your statement can wait till tomorrow. Benny’s been out of his mind with worry.”  
When they arrived, Meg opened the heavy wooden doors to see Ben standing in the entrance hall. She ran straight into his outstretched arms and they held each other tight for several minutes.  
“Thank God you’re safe!” he murmured, burying his face in her hair.  
Ray cleared his throat. “Hello! I’m here too ya know!”  
“Sorry, Ray,” said Ben, “it’s just that…”  
“Yeah! Yeah! I understand. I’ll be running along and leave you two to liaise or whatever it is you do. See you tomorrow, Inspector. I’ll bet you will be glad to get your money back.” With a wave of the hand, he departed.  
“What money?” asked Ben.  
“I, uh, I put up your bail money,” said Meg rather sheepishly.  
“But it was thousands of dollars. Why did you do that?”  
“Because..because I…because I love you.” There. She had finally said it.  
“And I love you,” he said taking her into his arms again. “Thank you for what you did for me, Meg, and I don’t just mean putting up the bail money. You were so brave!”  
“You’re welcome,” she said kissing him on the lips. “Just don’t bring any more waifs and strays into my consulate. That’s an order, Constable.”  
“Understood,” he replied, kissing her back.

**Author's Note:**

> The hotel in this story is entirely fictional. There is no Black Lotus Hotel in Chicago as far as I can ascertain. My apologies to the proprietors if one exists. No slur intended!


End file.
